


The Haunting of Conway House

by spnjb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Gen, Gen Work, Ghost Hunters, Haunted Houses, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnjb/pseuds/spnjb
Summary: "He had a sharp jawline that was covered in stubble and light hair that was pointed into a quiff at the front. Despite his rugged good looks, it was the shotgun he carried that commanded my attention; he held it casually, but with enough familiarity that I knew he would use it if needed."Original case fic involving ghosts, an abandoned house and the Winchester bros to the rescue!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The Haunting of Conway House

There was something scuttling along the wall. I couldn’t see what it was in the dark and I didn’t want to find out. I hurried away from the noise and into the next room over, where Carl was. He gave me one of his cute smiles when I entered and beckoned me over. This was fun to him. Here we were, wandering around a decrepit old house in the middle of the night, searching for ghosts. It had been entirely Carl’s idea and I hated it. I wanted to go to the movies with our friends, but Carl had convinced me otherwise.

Carl was a senior, two whole years older than me. I knew I was younger than his previous girlfriends and sometimes I couldn’t think what he saw in me. He was funny and popular and so effortlessly cool. I, on the other hand, was barely able to walk through an abandoned house without jumping at my own shadow. Still, I had tried my best to seem excited when he had suggested going ‘ghost hunting’ tonight. 

I had followed Carl up the overgrown drive towards the house and gone straight in when he’d held the door open for me. The house was covered in trailing ivy that had forced its way into the cracks in the walls. Although it was a summer’s night, it felt damp and cold within the house. Large oil paintings hung on the walls along the corridors and I was sure the portraits’ eyes followed us as we walked by. Velvet drapes framed the windows, but the colours had long since faded to a sludgy brown and the moths had clearly got to them. The furniture in the various rooms had once been luxurious but had fallen into a state of neglect. The piano in the front room was covered in a thick layer of dust and a few of the keys were missing. The three-piece suite in the lounge was fraying around the edges and the stuffing had grown mouldy.  
We checked the rooms downstairs, but didn’t find anything of great interest. I would have been quite happy to have left it at that, but Carl wanted to go upstairs. We headed up the long winding staircase in the centre of the hall, holding onto the bannister to feel our way in the darkness. The musty air clogged my throat and a cough bubbled up from my chest. I tried to suppress it but the urge was too strong and my  
spluttering echoed loudly in the silent house. 

“What are you looking for, Carl?” I asked, after I had finished coughing. Carl had stopped peering around curiously and was now checking each room along the landing with more intent. I crept after him, watching as he opened the doors in turn and looked into the gloomy depths of the room before moving on. 

“I’m trying to find Elizabeth Conway’s bedroom. I think the website said it was the second biggest,” Carl replied absently. “There’s a full moon tonight and local legend says this is when Elizabeth is at her most active.”

I nodded, despite not believing a word of it. There had been stories of local townspeople going missing, but I doubted a ghost was the cause. The police had never found anything suspicious here and that was proof enough for me. Some people swore that they could hear wails and crashes coming from the house, but everyone knew old houses creaked and groaned in the changing weather. Anything more was kids messing about. Despite my scepticism however, I was fascinated by history and knew all about the Conways. 

The Conway Family had been very rich, back in the day. They had lived here, some hundred years ago and were well known in the area. Mr and Mrs Conway had had a daughter called Elizabeth. I was a bit hazy on the details, but Elizabeth was said to have committed suicide after she was rejected by her fiancé and searched the rooms still, seeking the man she had killed herself for. I had gone along with Carl’s plans up to this point, but I wanted to check that he wasn’t too caught up in the story.

“Carl,” I began, “you do know that there’s no such thing as ghosts, right?”

Carl gave no sign that he’d heard me as he methodically checked each room twice to compare the sizes. I knew I’d lost him when he stopped in the doorway of one bedroom and then let out a crow of delight. Against my better judgement, I followed him inside to see what he had spotted. There was a four poster bed at one end of the room and a large oak wardrobe at the other. A broken chandelier dangled from the ceiling precariously, and I was almost positive that a dead racoon or something was the cause of the rotting smell. Carl seemed oblivious to it all as he examined an antique jewellery box that had been lying on top of a rotting desk in the corner of the room. 

“This must have been Elizabeth’s,” Carl breathed out, pointing to the faint initials engraved on top of the box. “Look, it says ‘E.C’ here.”

I watched as he flipped open the clasp, but before he could lift the lid, thundering footsteps sounded outside and two large figures crowded into the dimly lit room.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep voice growled, startling Carl so much that he nearly dropped the box. 

I let out a squeal and leapt behind Carl, my fingers digging into the back of his jacket. The two newcomers were imposing figures, both over six foot although the man with the longer hair had a good few inches on his companion. He held a duffle bag at his side and an iron bar in his other hand and stared around the room warily. The second man was shorter and slightly bow legged, but he strode into the room with confidence. He had a sharp jawline that was covered in stubble and light hair that was pointed into a quiff at the front. Despite his rugged good looks, it was the shotgun he carried that commanded my attention; he held it casually, but with enough familiarity that I knew he would use it if needed. Both men were wearing plaid overshirts and worn jeans, their faces set into scowls.

“Put the box down, kid and walk towards us, slowly,” the shorter man said, beckoning us closer. I gazed up at Carl, waiting for him to take the lead. He looked unsure, his eyes flitting between the two men and back towards the jewellery box he still held. For a moment I thought he was going to do as they asked, but Carl stood his ground.

“Who are you?” Carl’s his voice cracked on the last word. There was no way it had escaped his notice that the men held guns and I couldn’t help but think Carl was either being brave or incredibly stupid. Instead of answering Carl’s question though, the taller of the men put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flashing device. He studied it and then spoke to his partner with clear urgency.

“Dean, she’s getting close. We’ve got to hurry up and burn the damn necklace.” 

The man, Dean, nodded quickly and turned back to face us. I wilted under the intense stare and took a step back. The man’s gaze softened suddenly and he even quirked his lips up into a half smile. “We’re not here to hurt you,” he soothed, “we just really need that necklace you’ve got there.”

Whilst he spoke, the other man reached into his pocket again and this time pulled out what looked like a salt box. He proceeded to empty the contents into thick white strips along the base of the doorframe and then he skirted around Carl and I to the windows across the room, where he did the same on the window sills. I watched him suspiciously and stiffened when he came closer.

“Hey, I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, indicating at his partner. Carl wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close, sending a clear message to Sam. He nodded at Carl and stepped away, leaving a large gap between us all. 

“I know this sounds crazy , but ghosts are real and we’re trying to protect you from a particularly angry one,” Sam said, his face so earnest that I knew he really believed what he was saying. It sent chills down my spine and in that moment I wasn’t sure that I would be leaving this house alive. Mad men with guns had us trapped in this room and no-one from the town would notice us missing until tomorrow morning. Survival instincts kicked in and I knew the only way we might survive was to do exactly as we were told. 

Gripping Carl’s hand tight, I looked at Sam and nodded.“Tell us what you want us to do.”

Carl looked at me in bewilderment and began to speak, but I squeezed his hand twice, trying to signal to him to keep quiet. It worked, Carl’s mouth snapped shut and he nodded his agreement, however reluctantly. 

Sam let out a sigh of relief and smiled gratefully. He took a step towards us again and held out the box of salt. “I need you to make a salt ring, big enough for you both to stand in. You mustn’t step outside of it, no matter what, okay?” 

I nodded and went to take the box, but Carl grabbed my arm and pulled it back. He was glaring at Sam and Dean in turn, his right hand still hanging on to the jewellery box with a firm grip. 

“How do we know it’s actually salt, huh? It could be explosives or something. Maybe you’re trying to blow the whole house up,” Carl said, shaking his head in defiance. Dean clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, before walking towards Sam and taking the box from him.

“Salt, see?” Dean said, pouring some of the white powder into his hand and licking it. Dean’s mouth puckered up slightly, but showed no other reaction, which seemed to satisfy Carl. He begrudgingly took the box from Dean and began to pour the salt into a large circle on the floor. He had only just finished the shape when the chandelier above them began to shake and the floor seemed to tremble.

“She’s coming,” Sam shouted as he dropped the bag and raised the bar to chest level. A light began to flicker beside the rotting bedframe. There was a figure bathed within the light and as it became clearer, I could see that it was a woman. Her dress was tattered and her hooded eyes were void of any life. The woman opened her mouth in a silent scream and charged at Sam, who was still oblivious to the woman behind him.

“There!” I screamed and pointed at the pale form that was floating towards Sam with her colourless arms stretched out. Sam whirled around but he was too late – the woman was almost on top of him. Suddenly a loud bang ripped through the air and the woman disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. I looked in the direction that the noise had come from and saw Dean with the shotgun raised and smoking.

“Rock salt shells,” the man said with a shrug, “but it won’t stop her for long.” 

It almost seemed like she had been summoned by his words because the woman appeared again, this time right beside the salt circle that Carl and I stood in. She made to grab us, but an invisible barrier seemed to stop her from reaching her targets. She flung her head back in frustration and let out an unearthly wail. Her screams were cut short when Sam slashed at her with the metal bar. Rather than hitting solid flesh, the bar sailed through her body and she dispersed in a puff of light and dust. 

“Give me that box.” Dean held his hand out to Carl, his eyes wide and impatient. Carl floundered for a moment, reluctant to give up his prize, but he seemed to finally realise that there were more important things to worry about. Behind Dean, the woman had appeared again and now had Sam by the throat. Dean threw a desperate look over his shoulder and flung open the lid of the jewellery box. I watched as he retrieved a locket from inside and held it up for inspection. He nodded to himself and then fumbled with his shotgun to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a lighter and in the next moment flicked it on and held it up to the necklace.

Too late, the woman seemed to realise what he was doing and dropped Sam. She glided towards Dean, her face screwed up in pure rage. She had barely reached Dean’s side before she erupted into a ball of blue flames, a final screech emerging from her lips. The locket that Dean held in his hand was steadily burning and he dropped it to the floor. 

I felt a sudden pinching in my arm and I looked down to find Carl had a white knuckle grip on it. From the crescent shaped indentations in the flesh, it seemed he had been holding on for a while but he let go as soon as he noticed my stare.

“What the Hell just happened?” Carl turned to Dean and Sam, who was still coughing slightly. The brothers exchanged a look and a whole conversation seemed to flow between them. Dean finally nodded and gestured for Sam to proceed.

“We hunt monsters. Ghosts, werewolves, vampires, they’re all real and we kill ‘em,” Sam said bluntly. His voice was scratchy and he broke off in another cough, so Dean continued.“That woman there, was a woman called Elizabeth Conway. She killed herself over one hundred years ago, after she caught her fiancé sleeping with the maid.”

I nodded, we knew all of this already. Carl looked ready to interrupt, but Dean was already talking again.

“Her fiancé had given her that locket at their engagement dinner and had put a lock of her hair inside it. We think that was what was tying her to this house and the reason that she couldn’t pass over,” Dean motioned at the smouldering pile of metal on the floor. “Most ghosts stay in this world because they met a violent end or feel there is still something left to do. They’re usually tethered to a physical object.”  
Sam had recovered enough to continue where his brother left off. He had finished packing away their weapons and now stood beside Dean.

“We’d heard the local stories about townspeople going missing in this house. It seemed to always happen on the night of the full moon, exactly as the sky had looked when Elizabeth killed herself. We’ve been researching the house and family for days. It just happened that you two got here before us.” 

Carl had turned even paler and he was shaking slightly. I wanted to stay and hear more about this terrifying and exciting new world that had just been revealed to us, but I knew Carl needed to leave.

“Thank you for saving us,” I nodded at them both. Sam and Dean shrugged it off like it was nothing, but I could tell that they were secretly pleased. I guided Carl out of the salt circle, out of the room and down the stairs. As we left the rotting house and walked down the overgrown path once more, I turned to him and smiled.

“Carl? Maybe we should just go to the movies for our next date.”


End file.
